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Carrion Swift: the most notorious gambler, cheat, and smuggler in the entire city.
It was all luck. Good or bad. And luck could change at any moment.
Of course Death was beautiful. How else would anyone choose to go with him without putting up a fight?
Saeris. A pretty name. A Fae name.
“Give me that! What’s wrong with you? That book is a first edition.”
“An Oshellith is a type of butterfly,” he called as he went. “Osha for short. They hatch, live, and die all in one day.
“This is not my brother, Fisher. This is Carrion fucking Swift!”
Always pay attention to the fine print. The devil’s in the details.
“Bill? Who calls their horse Bill?”
Clearly Seris has never read Lord of the Rings
It’s almost as if you don’t really care if I have to stay here forever.” Archer let out a nervous giggle, hiccupped, and then scurried off toward the door.
I did what any sane woman would do: I bolted.
“What’s with the plant?” Ren asked. Carrion shrugged. “I don’t know, I liked the look of it. It was the only green thing for a mile amongst all that white. I figured it deserved an easy life if it had made it this far growing out of a snowbank. Plus, my tent was so bare. It needed a little cheering up.”
Carrion being a plant girly is one of my favorite things about him
“There are two kinds of forever, Alchemist. One is heaven. The other is hell. It doesn’t matter what I do. Make sure you choose your version of immortality wisely.”
